


Always My Angel

by dupergal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Basically the Cupids did a crap job of getting Dean and Cas together, Complete, Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 08 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dupergal/pseuds/dupergal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Cupid appeared at the bar and helped two men fall in love, Dean thought he couldn't be any more surprised at the second angel trial. It wasn't until he and Castiel confronted the Cupid that he learned how wrong he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always My Angel

Dean took another deep drag from his bottle of beer, eyes lazily on the TV as he waited for Castiel to return. The speedy completion of the second angel trial was looking dimmer and dimmer for them: no women had walked into Dwight Charles’ bar in the last few hours, and the only other patron was a redneck-looking guy in a baseball cap sitting at the other end of the bar. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He wondered how Sam was doing with the third trial, if the Father’s plan to cure Crowley was actually working. He wished he was there with Sam, but he knew that what Castiel was trying to do was extremely important as well. If the two of them could close the gates of Heaven, half of their problems would fly away (Dean very nearly chuckled at his own unintended joke). They’d no longer have to worry about all of Castiel’s dick brothers and sisters running around and messing with their lives. He should feel relieved about it, but strangely all he felt was remorse, for if Heaven is closed down, then Castiel will be locked away with the rest of them. Something clenches in Dean’s gut at the thought of Castiel leaving him—and Sam, of course—for good. He brushed the feeling off as nerves and downed another gulp of beer.

The sound of the door closing made Dean look up. He watched as Castiel walked to his right and sat down beside him. “Anything? You’ve been gone long enough.”

Castiel shook his head. “No. There was one female, but,” If Dean didn’t know him better he would’ve thought Castiel shrugged.

“What?”

“I don’t think she was female.” Confused, Dean turned back to his beer. From the corner of his eye he saw Castiel scanning the room awkwardly. “Anything here?”

Dean smiled half-heartedly. “Free drinks. Buddy over there thinks you saved his life.” Castiel flashed Dwight a peace sign, much to Dean’s amusement. Dwight nodded back before directing his attention back to the man in the baseball cap. Dean slid another beer over to Castiel, who looked at the bottle quizzically for a moment before turning that enrapturing gaze back on Dean.

“You really think it’s wise to be drinking on the job?” Castiel asked.

Dean was taken aback. “What show have you been watching?” Beer once again passed Dean’s lips, the cool, familiar liquid comforting. “Talk to me,” Dean said. “You sure about this? I mean, it’s one thing me and Sammy slamming the gates to the pit, but you-you’re boarding up Heaven, and you’re locking the door behind you.” The strange feeling in his stomach returned as he watched Castiel take a sip of his own beer.

“Yeah,” he sighed, the lip of the bottle resting just from his lips. “I know.”

His eyes still locked on Castiel’s, Dean said, “You did a lot of damage up there, man. You think they’re just going to let that slide?”

Castiel broke eye contact, looking everywhere but at Dean. “You mean, do I think they’ll kill me?” he asked. Finally, he turned his head just slightly, and Dean took in a little extra breath as he became captured in the depths of Castiel’s blue eyes. “Yeah, they might.” However nice it was for him and Castiel to be honest with each other, Dean wished the honesty wasn’t so brutal or terrifying. He didn’t want anything to happen to Castiel, no matter the mistakes he’d made.

“So this is it,” Dean started. A sad smile crossed his lips. “E.T. goes home.”

The door opened and closed again, and a woman entered the establishment, pushing a large cart full of alcohol. He and Castiel snapped to attention. This was it. Dwight immediately jumped into action, crossing to the far end to meet the woman dressed in blue. “Hey there,” he said. “Where’s Ed?” he asked.

“Flu,” the woman said simply. Dean had to admit she had a pretty look to her, even if she was a little older than what he usually went for. Her hair was a slightly red and a little curly, and she had a kind-looking smile. Dean was glad that this guy was going to get someone as pretty and seemingly-nice as her as his partner for life.

“Well, okay then,” Dwight replied.

Dean sat up a little straighter on his bar stool. “Showtime.”

“Let me give you a hand,” Dwight said. He dried his hands on a towel and began unloading beer from her cart.

The woman gave both the bartender and the baseball guy a sweet smile. “Thanks.” She looked at baseball cap guy out of the corner of her eye. “Wow, you’re a real gentleman.”

“Holy crap, this is like the first five minutes of every porno I’ve ever seen,” Dean murmured. Castiel’s eyes swept over Dean very quickly, which Dean pointedly ignored. Now was not the time to be contemplating whether or not he liked that Castiel seemed to be checking him out.

Dwight took a pad of paper and a pen from the woman and started writing. “Gail, Rod,” he said. Baseball cap guy—Rod—tipped his hat at Gail.

“Ma’am.” Gail nodded back respectfully.

“Rod rides a stool here most days,” Dwight continued, placing the pad back down on the counter.

Gail smiled brightly at the two men and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll be seeing you both,” she said, and with that she picked up her pad and her cart and strode out of the bar. “Thanks for the help,” she called over her shoulder, exiting out the back way. Dwight returned to his place behind the bar, leaning against the counter next to Rod and joining him in watching the TV.

The whole situation felt a little strange to Dean. If Gail was the one Dwight was meant to fall in love with, shouldn’t they have been acting a little friendlier with each other, if you catch his drift? The exchange between Dwight and Gail felt like little more than two people doing business with one another. He was about to turn to Castiel to express his opinion that maybe tonight wasn’t the night, when the guy on screen pulled back the string on a very high-tech looking bow, and Dwight and Rod exclaimed, “Damn, that’s sweet,” simultaneously. Dean had no words to describe the look the two men gave each other as they turned to stare into each other’s eyes. The expression on their faces looked like—well, frankly, they looked like two people in love.

“How ‘bout the next one’s on me?” Dwight said, and it sounded a little suggestive to Dean’s well-trained ears. Dwight’s voice sounded like Dean’s did whenever he tried to pick up chicks and was hoping for something a little extra later.

Dean was completely stunned. He couldn’t move, couldn’t hear. He blinked at Dwight and Rod several times, wondering if this was just his eyes playing tricks on him. He thought that maybe if he blinked enough, the mirage would lift and he would see Dwight walking out of the bar with his arm around Gail’s waist. Not knowing why, Dean turned his head to Castiel, seeking approval to the madness he saw in front of him, only to see that the angel had stood up from his stool and left. Dean couldn’t believe Castiel could accept something like this so easily. A second later, Dean too stood up and chased after Castiel.     

He and Castiel followed Gail into the back alley. Dean was still stunned at what had transpired inside the bar. The last thing he had been expecting was for two, extremely manly men to be hit by a Cupid. A Cupid for God’s sake! Dean had heard all sorts of propaganda surrounding homosexual people and heard constantly that they were “abominations” and that “God doesn’t love them”, and now he’d seen for himself that it wasn’t the case. Of course, Dean had met homosexual people before—like the couple at the weird _Supernatural_ convention, or Charlie—but he’d only thought that it was their choice, that Heaven didn’t want to interfere with anyone who liked someone of the same sex. Cupids answered to God and Heaven; whatever they did was the will of Heaven and, by extension, God himself. When Dean saw the way those two men looked at each other, something just clicked. It suddenly dawned on him that you can be gay and still retain your masculinity. Just because you were gay didn’t mean you had to dress in rainbow shirts and act all flamboyant and march in gay pride parades. Being gay just meant being who you were. Though he couldn’t quite understand why the realization seemed so important, he somehow felt lighter, like he was walking on a bed of clouds.

Together, he and Castiel told Gail about Castiel’s trials to close Heaven, and, although she gave the two of them an odd look, she admitted she was afraid and agreed to let them take her bow. Before she let Castiel cut off her hand, however, Gail said, “I just have one question: you guys are Dean Winchester and Castiel, right?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and Castiel tilted his head. “Yeah,” Dean said gruffly. “What’s it to you?”

She shrugged. “It’s just that, I was pretty sure you guys had been hit already, but you don’t seem to be, you know,” she pressed her palms together. “Together.”

Dean couldn’t help himself; he laughed. “Yeah, right. Me and Cas? Seriously?” He gestured at the angel, who was strangely still behind him. “I mean, he’s not even human.” Dean could’ve sworn he could feel Castiel’s gaze sharpen between his shoulder blades. The thought made a shiver crawl up his spine. Gail’s expression never wavered from its half-smile. “And me I—I mean, what makes me worthy of being hit with your Cupid mojo? Besides, would want to be with me? I’m nothing but an insane alcoholic who hunts down the supernatural for a living. Or lack of one, so to speak. Nobody wants to be with someone like that.” Suddenly, a pair of strong hands gripped both of Dean’s shoulders and spun him around. Castiel’s face was dark and serious.

“Dean,” he said harshly. His bright blue eyes bored into Dean’s own. “Don’t ever think about yourself that way. Ever since I touched your soul in Hell, I knew all the good that lives within you. You are caring and protective. You are kind and beautiful and your soul is the purest thing I have ever seen. You try so hard to not to let people down, and even though you hide behind your shell of masculinity and gruffness, you long to be loved by someone. You _deserve_ to be loved by someone, and not just by some female you take home from the bar.” Dean could not believe what he was hearing. The thought of it being all a joke briefly flashed through Dean’s mind, but it was quickly stifled by the adoration and sincerity shining in Castiel’s eyes. “You’ve saved countless lives; saved the world; saved me, just because you did not want to see anyone hurt. And if those are the actions of someone that doesn’t deserve love, then I do not know who does.”

Dean couldn’t control himself any longer. Screw everyone who ever thought that homosexuality was a sin. Screw the trials and Naomi and Crowley and all those against him. Hell, screw himself for ever pushing down what he felt for Castiel because, honestly, it wasn’t doing anyone any good. He grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his stupidly attractive trench coat and smashed his lips onto Castiel’s. He forced Castiel’s mouth open with his tongue and swallowed Castiel’s whimper as he kissed him, aggressively and full of the burning, pent-up passion he didn’t realize he’d been hiding. Although he’d never imagined ever having to kiss Castiel, Dean did admit that kissing him was way better than he had expected it to be. He thought the angel might be too awkward or, even worse, not return his secret feelings. But boy was Dean glad to be wrong, for once. Castiel could kiss like a pro. His moment of awkwardness was shattered almost instantly when Castiel’s tongue moved insistently against his own. Dean groaned and slid a hand into Castiel’s hair. He twirled his fingers through the short strands and coaxed Castiel’s head into a deeper angle, causing Castiel to moan and tighten his grip on Dean’s hips, pulling the two of them flush together.

Dean had never felt so complete in his whole life. There had always been something missing, something that all the sex and beer and hunting in the world couldn’t fill. At first he thought that what was missing was a closer bond with Sam, but he now realized that it wasn’t Sam that he needed: it was Cas. Maybe it had always been Cas. Cas, with his threadbare knowledge of human behaviour; Cas, with his trench coat and backwards tie; Cas, with his messy sex hair and ravishing blue eyes. But there was more to him than that. He wasn’t just Cas, the hot angel. He was Cas, Dean’s best friend, the angel who rescued him, who died for him, who betrayed all of Heaven for him. And now, Cas was even more than that to him. Now Castiel was Dean’s lover, boyfriend, whatever. He was Dean’s and Dean was his.

The kiss felt like it lasted for hours upon hours, and Dean never wanted it to end. Eventually though, Castiel gently removed Dean’s lips from his own. Castiel’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips a little red from all the kissing, and Dean was just gone. _How did I never realize how beautiful he is?_ Dean wondered as he traced the line of Castiel’s jaw, oddly loving the scratch of his stubble against the palm of his hand. Keeping his head still, Castiel looked up at Dean, and the smile he gave him was the most genuine he’d had in a long time. Castiel chuckled a little bit and let his forehead rest on Dean’s. If he never had to move again, Dean was sure he’d want to be stuck right here in this moment with Castiel. His Castiel. His angel.

Gail coughed behind Dean and he and Castiel leapt apart. Dean was pretty sure he was blushing from head-to-toe. He averted his eyes from Castiel, because he knew if he laid eyes on the blush that was probably on Castiel’s cheeks he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t jump the angel then and there. Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, sorry about that,” said Dean. She smirked at him and motioned a little with her head.

“Go on, hold hands you idiots. I know you want to, and trust me; I’ve seen a lot worse than a makeout session in my day.” Tentatively, Dean stretched out his hand for Castiel’s.  Calming warmth rocketed through Dean’s very soul at the feel of Castiel’s hand in his, their fingers interlocking, touching as much as humanly possible. Dean should have felt awkward holding another man’s hand in such plain sight, but instead Dean felt content. He gave Castiel’s hand a gentle squeeze, which Castiel readily returned. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted out. Looks like whatever Cupid hit you didn’t do a very good job. Guess it just needed the right kick to get the magic started.”

Dean glanced at Castiel from the corner of his eye and smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Gail held out her hand, palm up. The tattoo of a bow and arrow stood clear as day on the centre of her palm. Castiel slid his angel blade from his sleeve. “Good luck you two, both in your trials and with each other.”

“Thank you kindly,” Castiel said. He gave her a slight bow. “You have done us and all of Heaven a great service. We will not soon forget you.” He brought the blade down and Dean respectfully looked away.

Dean and Castiel left Gail behind them. They walked as close together as they could, shoulders brushing, hands never straying from the others. When they got to the front of the bar, Dean stopped. Castiel cocked his head in question.

“Cas,” he started. Dean’s throat felt like it had been shrunk to the size of a pin. Since the Cupid had revealed that he and Castiel were meant to be together, he had gone soft. He’d become every male lead in every single chick flick he’d ever been forced to watch. The odd thing was, he didn’t regret it. Thinking about being with Castiel and holding Castiel and kissing Castiel made him feel so safe and warm. The last time he could remember feeling that way was so long ago. It had been with his mom, and though Dean could no longer remember what had triggered it, he knew that loving Castiel made him feel the same way. And now that they’d finally found each other, Dean didn’t want to lose him. All of Heaven could shove it up their asses; there was no way he was letting Castiel finish the trials. Dean couldn’t lose him like he’d lost so many other people in his life. “Cas, I can’t let you finish those trials,” Dean said. He pulled Castiel close and wrapped his arms around his waist. Castiel followed suit.

“Why not, Dean?” Castiel asked.

Dean chuckled. That was so like Castiel it hurt. “Oh, Cas,” He pecked him on the lips, just briefly, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut. “If you finish the trials then you’re stuck in Heaven. I can’t let you leave, not like everyone else has. I can’t let that happen, not when I’ve finally found someone to—” The words caught in Dean’s throat but he forced them through. “—to love. Cas, you can’t go.”

Castiel sighed. “I’m sorry, Dean, but it must be done. I do not want to leave you either, but if I don’t do this then the angels will keep messing in your affairs. You will never be safe, not truly.”

“I don’t care!” Dean blurted. “They can do whatever the hell they want as long as you stay here.” _As long as you stay with me_ , Dean didn’t add.

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I will watch over you, every day and every night. I will never leave you.” Castiel surged up and kissed him, strong and slow and _loving_ , gentle where their first kiss had been so desperate. This was Castiel’s way of expressing how he felt, how much he’d miss Dean when he left, and how much he loved him. Dean kissed back, showing Castiel that he felt the same way. When they pulled apart their arms remained around each other.

“No matter what happens,” Dean whispered, his breath ghosting across Castiel’s face. “You will always be my angel.” He kissed him one more time, Castiel chasing his lips. “Now c’mon,” Dean said, untangling himself from Castiel and taking his phone from his pocket. “Let’s call Kevin and see what’s up with the angel tablet.” Castiel grabbed his hand as he started to walk away and Dean smiled, pulling him against his side.

No matter what happened, Castiel would always be Dean’s angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my bestie theverysmallcube for proofreading this for me. She rocks!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and Kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for more updates and Destiel: crystalcas.tumblr.com


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